


The Empty Man Cometh

by LiterallyThePresident



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eiffel is a ghost, Ghosts, Horror, Implications of violence, It’s Eiffel, Possession, Well - Freeform, one ghost, spoilers up to Do No Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-09-05 10:36:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16808980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiterallyThePresident/pseuds/LiterallyThePresident
Summary: Douglas Eiffel is dead. But that doesn’t mean he’s gone.





	1. Encroaching Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> I was playing a spooky horror game and got inspired! A future chapter may hint at what game that was.

It started about a week after Eiffel’s death. The noises. The cold pockets of air. The whisper of laughter echoing down a corridor. Everyone chalked it up to stress and grief, especially when nothing ever showed up on Hera’s systems. It was just accepted as their minds straining, and Hera could only watch her crew fall apart.

Hilbert was on edge, exhausted and snappish. Clearly not getting any sleep since Eiffel died on his operating table. How hilarious, Hera had never thought him the type to feel guilt. She desperately wished she could take pleasure in it. But whether or not he was truly guilty for not saving him, or he was simply mourning the loss of his _fucking_ virus, she couldn’t tell. But she wanted to believe he felt guilty. She wanted to think he heard Eiffel’s dying gasps in his dreams, saw his lifeless brown eyes every time he closed his eyes, felt his blood on his hands even though they were spotless. She wanted to believe it so badly it ached. He deserved it. He deserved so much worse.

Lovelace was... Well, Hera still couldn’t figure her out. A part of her absolutely hated the woman for not lifting a finger to help Eiffel, everyone learning too late that a blood transfer from her could have saved him. It was going to take a lot for Hera to forgive her for that, even if Lovelace looked to be blaming herself for that pretty hard if her foul mood and self-imposed isolation was any indication. She hadn’t known. She hadn’t thought to come to the medbay until it was too late. Until Hilbert was already wrapping his corpse with red stained hands and Minkowski was staring at the scene with the look of someone breaking apart, flinching at every red droplet that floated around the room and splashed against her skin.

It was Minkowski who was probably taking it the hardest. She was shutting everyone out, focusing on work to try to ignore the grief. She hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since they lost him. She barely ate, barely gave herself a moment to rest. Her sole focus was repairing the station. Outrunning the pain. Keeping her remaining people safe. And when she woke up sobbing Eiffel’s name, when she spent her nights roaming the station rather than strap into in bed, when she wound up in the communications room listening to old recordings of his voice rather than face the nightmares, Hera had the decency not to mention it.

Hera herself was still having trouble processing it. Her best friend in the world was gone. Just... gone. And there was no way to get him back. No backups or auxiliary systems or restore functions, no restart button or secondary copy. Because Eiffel was a tiny and fragile human, and humans don’t get a second life. All she had left of him was archived footage and the recordings he’d made, footage and records she played on repeat in the background of her processes day in and day out. In a way, he’d always be with her. At least she’d still have these echoes of him when she was inevitably left behind.

Doug Eiffel was gone. And Hera... Hera was left behind to try and accept it. The crew moved on as best they could, settling into a terrible monotony of repairing systems only for them to break again a week later. With the tedium of the work, the stress of the whole situation, the strange occurrences, and the Eiffel-shaped hole in their lives, they quickly fell apart. 

The star turned blue soon after, (and how fitting that blue was the color of sadness), and they could do nothing but stare and try to figure out why. Hera couldn’t help but think of all the things Eiffel would have had to say about it. After the sudden shift, the strange occurrences began to intensify. The crew began to hear soft crying in the dark corners of the station, despite the only man on the station being Hilbert, who was definitely not the one responsible. Lovelace swore she felt hands on her shoulders during a comms argument with Minkowski, the event leaving her wary and suspicious. Even Hera was experiencing technical glitches and odd shadows on her feeds. Shadows that almost resembled a human figure.

They didn’t get the time to get together and talk about it. Because soon after the star changed, SI-5 came, bringing with them a whole new set of problems that put concerns about the ghostly figure on the back burner for a while.


	2. A Touch of Madness

Daniel Jacobi had been expecting a run-down station when they arrived at _Hephaestus_ , and that’s exactly what they found. Some questionable design choices were to be expected, especially after a long period of relative solitude in the dark void of space. But seriously this was just sad. The general living quarters they were all gathered in were stuffy and neglected, and someone had clearly tried to paint a mural on the wall at some point and given up halfway through. Not to mention the drab walls and boring, Goddard-issue decor. But the absolute worst part of the entire room was admittedly the most interesting.

A large painting was prominently displayed on a wall, and it was was the ugliest thing he’d had ever seen in his life, and he had seen a lot of ugly art in his time. As the Colonel gave their new teammates his little We’re Here to Help speech, Daniel examined the piece. It was well done, very detailed and artistic. The subject was a man with brown eyes and cloudlike brown hair, even wearing a _Hephaestus_ mission uniform. He was floating, the artist having made it appear that he was holding onto the inside of the frame. He was handsome enough, Daniel supposed, in a lazy sort of way. But that was where the pleasantness ended.

The man’s skin had obviously been brown at one point but was now pallid and gray, with raw marks on the wrists like he’d been restrained and thrashing around. His brown eyes were bright and focused, seeming to look directly at Daniel with a sharpness that honestly made him a little nervous, despite the smile on the man’s face. But the most attention-grabbing thing about the picture was the blood absolutely _drenching_ the scene. It was _everywhere_ , seemingly originating from both a gash on the man’s chest and his parted, grinning lips, floating around him in little ruby droplets, coating him and the room behind him. _This_ room, as Daniel noticed. The room they were standing. What a strange thing to have in here. How had they even snuck art supplies up here? It had clearly been made after seeing this room, seeing as it was a flawless reproduction.

His gaze drifted back to the soulful brown eyes. He couldn’t seem to look away for long. It was like a part of him was entranced, like a spider caught in a web. He stared into them, those eyes and that smile that seemed just a touch mad, the entire world falling away for a few moments. As he looked deep into them, he felt... afraid. He felt cold. Those eyes... there was nothing friendly or human about them. They seemed to shine with a terrible inhuman knowledge, piercing Daniel’s very soul and dragging up all his buried secrets and hidden regrets. He felt faint. He was shaking. There was a cold sweat on his brow, and his heart was pounding, and still those eyes pierced him.

“Anything to add, Mister Jacobi?” Kepler’s voice broke through his darkening thoughts. He must have finished his speech, “Any ways you can think of to improve the poor state of this station?” Daniel blinked, and the illusion was gone.

“Y-Yeah.” he laughed, more to comfort himself as he gestured to the hideous thing. The eyes were just that now. A pair of painted eyes without power, “First thing’s first, let’s get rid of this ugly-ass painting. Totally ruins the room. I didn’t even know they let art up here. If you could call this art. What is this, Macbeth or something? A demon? Revenant?” They all looked at him like he’d grown a second head. The air went awkwardly silent, the _Hephaestus_ crew in particular looking like they expected him to add on to that. Even the ai was suspiciously silent for the first time since they’d gotten there. Alana gave him a worried look, and if _that_ wasn’t cause for concern, the Colonel’s next words certainly were.

“Mister Jacobi.” he sounded exasperated, much to Daniel’s confusion, “Your sense of humor is, as ever, inscrutable.”

“What?” Daniel blinked, genuine surprise coloring his words, “What do you mean? Don’t tell me you actually like that kind of art?”

“That is a window, Jacobi.” he replied, starting to look annoyed, “As amusing as you think you are, try not to waste any more of our time in front of our _new_ _friends_.” Daniel blinked, looking back at the painting. But... it had changed. The bloody man with the strange eyes was gone, the frame clear of anything. It was indeed just a window. Looking innocently out into the blackness of space.

“Oh. I thought...” he blinked, staring at the window, “Huh.”

“You okay there, Mister Jacobi?” Kepler asked, his gaze sharp. Oh boy, if Daniel didn’t improvise quick, he was in for it.

“Yeah.” he waved quickly, “Yeah, no, I think I just need a nap. Space travel never agreed with me.” A lie, but one that apparently satisfied the Colonel and at least made the others stop _staring_ at him.

“Wonderful.” Kepler said, “Now, as I was saying, I’ll assign my people to help with repairs...” As the Colonel spoke, Daniel glanced again at the window, searching for any sign of what he had seen earlier. But it was just a window. Weird. He had been so sure...

He managed to brush it off as not getting enough sleep, but his dreams that night were haunted by shadows and a bloody smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t worry, Eiffel is still Eiffel. He just likes fucking with people.


	3. Behind You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like spooky shit

Whatever weird shit was happening on the station, the dial was turned up to eleven a few weeks after SI-5 arrived. It had been made _abundantly_ clear that were not here to rescue the crew nor to be their friends, and Isabel and the crew spent many a night spinning plots and tossing ideas back and forth. Occasionally, when exhaustion tugged at them and they were too demoralized to plot, they’d reminisce. Isabel hadn’t known Officer Eiffel long, but Minkowski and even Hilbert were full of stories of the early days of the mission. Much to her chagrin, they had a talent for making her miss a man she’d never really known.

The weirdness began to truly escalate the day Kepler harshly spoke down to Minkowski for a stupid mistake with the engine that was really more Jacobi’s fault than hers. Nothing unusual per se, except this time he was particularly vitriolic and condescending. But before he’d finished his little tirade with a derisive sneer of _remember_ _your_ _place_ , _**lieutenant**_ , he cried out in surprise, jerking forward. Jacobi and Maxwell were at his side in an instant, alert for any sign of attack. Kepler whirled around, eyes narrowed with fury, and that’s when Isabel saw why. The back of his uniform was absolutely shredded, red lines of blood running down his shoulders and back. It looked like he’d been swiped at by a furious tiger. Yet there was nothing behind him. Just an empty hallway. Isabel glanced at Minkowski, who just shrugged.

“Who. Is responsible. For this?” Kepler asked through gritted teeth. No one had an answer for him, “Hera!?” he snapped

“I...I-I don’t know.” she said, sounding fearful, “There’s nothing there.”

“Oh, well, in that case, I’ll just go and bandage these silly little wounds that _nothing_ just left.” he snapped, “Check again.”

“I’m telling you, nothing is there!” she exclaimed.

“There’s... no one else on the station.” Maxwell said slowly, brow furrowing, “The only other was the plant thing, and we got rid of that.”

“I’m reasonably certain that air doesn’t simply claw at people.” Kepler said pointedly, “And even if it were nobody, I have no intention of being Polyphemus in this little story.” At that, a soft laugh reached their ears, making everyone freeze.

“Who’s there?” Kepler called, “Show yourself!” But there was no response. The laughter faded away, leaving them in tense silence.

“Hera?” Maxwell whispered, eyes wide.

“Nothing.” Hera replied, equally soft. She sounded shaken, “Nothing on thermal, nothing on infrared or bio-readings or anything. All my sensors are telling me that there is nothing and no one else on this station.”

With a sound of sheer agitation, Kepler pulled his gun. Before anyone could move, he’d aimed it square at Minkowski’s head. Isabel’s blood ran cold, Minkowski’s eyes went wide, and even Hilbert looked alarmed.

“Show yourself.” Kepler addressed the empty hallway with forced calm, “Or I put a bullet in the lieutenant’s head.” His words were met with no response except an insult from Minkowski and protests from Hera and Isabel. Protests he paid no heed to.

“You have three seconds.” he said, switching the safety off, “Three.”

Nothing.

“Two.”

Nothing.

“O-“

And before Kepler could make good on his word, Jacobi began to choke, hands flying to his throat and eyes widening with fear. Maxwell shouted, Kepler’s face twisted with an unidentifiable emotion, and just for a moment, Isabel saw it. Just there, behind Jacobi. A nightmarish apparition. Bloodied hands wrapped tight around his throat. Familiar brown hair drifting around pallid, pale skin.Furious eyes fixed on Kepler, brimming with hatred. But when she blinked, the vision was gone. Leaving only Jacobi, seemingly being strangled by the very air.

Isabel was suddenly very cold.

“Jacobi.” Kepler didn’t lower the gun, “What’s the matter?” But Jacobi didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His face was turning purple, his hands scrabbling desperately at the invisible hands choking him, eyes wide and terrified. He was going to die at this rate.

“Daniel!?” Maxwell tried to help him, but there was nothing she could do but watch helplessly as his movements started to weaken, “Daniel, what’s happening!?”

“Whoever you are, let him go!” Kepler snarled, “I’ll shoot her if you do not comply!”

“Eiffel.” Isabel whispered, and everything stopped. Kepler blinked at her in sheer surprise, an expression echoed by Minkowski and Hilbert. Kepler lowered the gun, opening his mouth to demand an explanation, but the moment he was no longer a threat to Minkowski, Jacobi fell to the floor, coughing and breathing in deep lungfuls of air. Maxwell was at his side in an instant, eyes wide with worry and fear. All eyes turned to Isabel with varying degrees of suspicion and confusion.

“What?” Minkowski’s face was pale, eyes tightening as they always did when their lost communications officer was brought up, “What do you mean? Why... Why did you say his name?”

“I think... I think that’s what’s happening here.” Isabel replied slowly, “This may sound completely crazy, but I just saw him.”

“Eiffel is _dead_.” Minkwoski said, the words apparently difficult to say even now, “Lovelace, this isn’t funny-“

“I just saw him.” Isabel cut her off as calmly as she could, despite her shaking hands and pounding heart, “Behind Jacobi. Choking him.”

“We didn’t see anything.” Kepler glared, trying to retake control despite the odd circumstances, “Really, Captain, of all the schemes to try, this? You expect me to believe a _ghost_ is responsible for the unusual activity on the station?”

“Well we sure as _hell_ didn’t imagine whatever the hell just happened!” she snapped, “Jacobi, did it feel like hands wrapped around your throat just now?” Jacobi looked reluctant, wide-eyed and shaking just a bit, but he eventually nodded slowly. An act that had Kepler glaring daggers at the man.

“Cold hands.” Jacobi whispered, “But... wet? Cold hands wet with something... warm and coppery...” Silence met his statement. No one knew what to say. Jacobi looked truly shaken, an expression none of them had ever seen on the cocksure man. But even Isabel found difficulty in taking satisfaction in it right now. Looking around the little group, she was certain she wasn’t the only one remembering his odd behavior the day they’d arrived, when he’d mistaken a window for a painting. A muscle worked in Kepler’s jaw, his agitation clear.

“There was...” Hera started reluctantly, “Something. A... shadow.”

“A shadow?” Isabel asked.

“Behind Jacobi.” she said, “It was only there for a few moments, but I have it on camera.”

“I’ll look at it.” Maxwell said, sounding shaken, “As soon as I have a moment free. This is...”

“Why would he go for me?” Jacobi asked hoarsely, “I wasn’t the one holding a gun to his buddy.”

“That is probably exactly why.” Hilbert spoke up, mouth set in a deep frown, “Assuming this... hypothesis has any merit. If he attacked Kepler, there was risk of accidentally shooting Minkowski. If he attacked you, Kepler would have to chose between shooting her or protecting you.”

“If he’d shot her,” Isabel supplied, “It’s safe to assume Eiffel would’ve snapped Jacobi’s neck.”

“Enough of this _useless_ discussion.” Kepler growled, cold fire in his eyes, “Everyone back to work. Now. Jacobi, Maxwell, with me. And not another _word_ about ghosts, am I clear?”

“Yes sir.” the two of them said quietly, Maxwell’s touch gentle as she helped Jacobi up, keeping a steadying hand on his arm.

“We’re going to get to the bottom of this.” Kepler said, “And when I find out who is _actually_ responsible for all this nonsense, there will be hell to pay.”

Hell to pay. Isabel had to stifle a chuckle at his wording.


	4. Missing Him

Renée waited until everyone was asleep before moving, quietly making her way down the groaning halls of the station. Hera was kind enough not to say anything, and for that Renée was grateful. She wanted to be alone for this... this whatever she was about to do. It was absolutely insane, and the Renée Minkowski of a few months ago would have scoffed at the very idea. Now though, with Eiffel dead and the strange events of yesterday and the shadow on Hera’s camera feed that Lovelace insisted was Eiffel... she didn’t know what to think.

Eiffel’s room was untouched when she drifted into it and closed the door behind her. It was exactly as it was before he died, messy and unorganized and so _Eiffel_ it made her chest ache. His scent still lingered, and she had to stop herself from inhaling deeply lest she make herself cry. Again. She hadn’t even been able to listen to his recordings without tearing up and withdrawing into herself. God damn the man, but despite all their disagreements and frustrations, he had been her best friend.

“Eiffel?” she asked softly, staring around the empty room for some sort of sign, “Are you... Are you here?”

Silence. Her heart sank. Of course. It had been stupid to try. Lovelace was probably just... tired. Seeing things. Lips a thin line, Renée turned to leave. But before she could, cold arms wrapped lightly around her shoulders, a chilled form pressed lightly to her back. She tensed, but she didn’t turn around. The darkness of the room seemed to press in on her. She was certain she was shaking.

“Eiffel?” she asked softly, hardly daring to hope, “Doug?” 

For a moment, there was no answer. And then, a sound just next to her ear. Barely a whisper.

“ _Hey_ , _Commander_.” her breath hitched. That voice, that achingly familiar voice of a man she missed so much. After everything that had happened, just hearing his voice again was all it took for Renée to break. She didn’t dare look behind her, lest he disappear. Instead she closed her eyes and grasped the cold arms, willing her heat to sink into his skin as she finally let herself cry.

“I’m sorry.” she gasped, “I’m so so sorry, Doug. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.” An unseen cheek nuzzled her hair. Perhaps speaking took a lot of effort when one was dead.

“ _Not_ _your_ _fault_.” or maybe not, “ _Really_ , _blame_ _Hilbert_.”

“He at least tried to save you. He was able to at least do something.” she wept, “I’m your commanding officer. It was my job to protect you and you died right before my eyes and I could do _nothing_ but stand there and watch.”

“ _You_ _did_ _everything_ _you_ _could_.” his voice was so soft. Almost a whisper. A breath of wind. So unlike his loud presence in life, “ _No_ _one_ _blames_ _you_.”

“I do. And the last thing we did before everything went to hell was argue.” she sniffled, wishing he was more corporeal. Wishing she could hug him, shelter him, turn back time and stop Goddard from ever recruiting him. Maybe then he’d still be alive. Maybe then she’d be spared the pain of having her best friend die under her command.

“ _This_ _is_ _the_ _part_ _where_ _I_ _say_ ‘ _I’ll_ _always_ _be_ _with_ _you_ ’.” he said in a mock falsetto, making her truly laugh for the first time since they lost him. His body shook behind her with silent laughter, and she could almost believe he was still alive.

“Always with the cliches, Eiffel.” she chuckled, managing a watery smile, “Always, even when I didn’t appreciate them.”

“ _Someone_ _has_ _to_ _keep_ _your_ _**spirits**_ _up_. _Eh_?” he sounded like he was grinning as she snorted at the bad pun. As insufferable as the man was, he always knew how to make her laugh.

“God, I miss you.“ she wiped her eyes, trying to keep it together, “Does talking to me... hurt?”

“ _A_ _little_.” he admitted, “ _Makes_ _me_ _feel_ _sick_. _Like_ _a_ _pulling_ _in_ _my_ _stomach_. _Not_ _fun_.”

“I’m sorry.” she whispered, but she selfishly didn’t want to let him go yet, “I can...”

“ _It’s_ _fine_.” he said, “ _Totally_ _worth_ _it_.”

“What’s death like?” she found herself asking, “If... If you’re able to say.”

“ _Foggy_.” he replied instantly, “ _Everything_ _is_ _exactly_ _the_ _same_ , _except_ _it’s_ _really_ _foggy_ _and_ _weird_ _and_ _no_ _one_ _can_ _see_ _me unless I try, or I’m angry enough._ _It’s a little_ _like_ _Silent_ _Hill_? _Super_ _weird_. _But_ _still_ _it’s_... _easy_. _To_ _talk_ _and_ _interact_ _with_ _stuff_. _Makes_ _me_ _wonder_ _why_ _ghosts_ _back_ _on_ _Earth_ _don’t_. _Makes_ _me_ _wonder_ _why_ _I’m_ _the_ _only_ _ghost_ _on_ _this_ _station_.”

“Maybe the star?” she suggested, “Psi-waves or something?”

“ _Maybe_.” he sounded like he accepted that as the explanation, “ _It_ _did_ _get_ _a_ _lot_ _easier_ _to_ _do_ _everything_ _after_ _the_ _star_ _turned_ _blue_. _That_ _could_ _be_ _our_ _motto_ , _you_ _know_. _When_ _in_ _doubt_ , _blame_ _the_ _star_. _You_ _know_ , _I_ _always_ _thought_ - _Oh_ , _boy_.”

“Eiffel?” she asked fearfully, tensing. He’d sounded like he was in pain.

“ _Sorry_. _Talked_ _too_ _long_.” he said, his voice growing raspy, “ _Nausea_ _to_ _the_ _max_. _Gotta_ _rest_.”

“Wait!” she panicked, not wanting to lose him again so soon, “Eiffel, I-!”

“ _Don’t_ _worry_.” he whispered, voice fading away, barely a whisper now, “ _I’m_ _gonna_ _protect_ _you_. _All_ _of_ _you_.”

And then he was gone. Renée was alone again in a dead man’s room.

She buried her face in her hands and cried, letting herself be weak while she was alone, before she had to go be strong again.


	5. Useless

Alana was woken by a scream. A terrible and familiar scream that had her up and scrambling out of bed with a burst of adrenaline. She threw herself down the hall and towards Daniel’s room, heart in her throat and ice in her veins. The rest of the crew was already there, Kepler and Minkowski trying to force open the door to Daniel’s room while Hilbert fiddled with the apparently unresponsive access panel. Kepler’s face was set, his eyes fiery and sharp in a way that meant he was scared and trying not to show it.

“Hera-“ Alana began, but the AI cut her off.

“I’m trying!” she exclaimed, “The door isn’t responding and the cameras are a-acting up again!”

“ _I’m_ _not_ _afraid_ _of_ _you_ , _y_ - _you_ _freak_!” Daniel’s fearful voice sounded from within.

“Well try harder!” Kepler demanded, he and Minkowski throwing all their weight against the door as Daniel’s terrified cry came again from behind the door.

“Daniel?” Alana called, heart pounding, “Daniel!?”

“ _Stay_ _away_!” he sounded so afraid, like he couldn’t even hear her, “ _Stay_ _away_ _from_ _me_!”

“Maxwell, step back.” Kepler ordered, but Alana wasn’t having it as she threw herself at the door, heedless of whether or not she was helping or hindering. She was a computer specialist, damn it, she was _useless_ here.

“My best friend is in there!” she snapped, unable to stay calm, unable to make herself care if the others were seeing her break down. It was one thing if they had time to save him like they’d had when she’d been locked in Standard Lab 7, but this was something else. He was being attacked _right_ _now_ and she was trapped on the other side of a door. But Kepler snarled at her, his own frustration shining through just for a moment.

“Maxwell, stand down!” his command left room for no insubordination, though he kept shoving uselessly at the door, “Hera, _what_ is going on in there?”

“I-I don’t know!” she cried, “I-I told you my cameras aren’t working! It’s like something is interfering!”

“Hilbert!?”

“Panel not responding.” he replied as calmly as he could, “Nothing is working.”

“ _No_. _No_!” Daniel sounded so afraid, “ _Don’t_ _come_ _any_ _closer_!” Minkowski looked worried, but Kepler looked _furious_. It was an expression too close to fear, easy enough for anyone who knew him to read.

“I want this door open, Hera.” he growled, “And I want those cameras operational. And if _anything_ happens to Jacobi I will personally ensure that you are sold for scrap parts in the shadiest-“ Before he could finish that sentence, a wet, choking gasp emitted from Daniel’s room. It was a terrible sound, like he was being strangled, or something was forcing itself down his throat. It made Alana nauseous. Then, as quickly as it began, every sound from the room ceased. The silence was somehow more horrible than the screams.

“Hera?” Alana’s voice was a terrified whisper.

“A-Almost... I think... Yes!” The door slid open, and the crew surged in, weapons drawn. But room was empty, no signs of struggle or a fight at all. Except for the sight of Daniel floating in the middle of the room, unconscious and pale. Alana gasped at the sight, hands flying to her mouth.

“Daniel!” she made to go to him, but Kepler’s hand on her shoulder stopped her.

“Search the room.” he ordered, eyes steely. She almost argued, but deflated in the face of his expression. He was angry. Beyond angry. At least Alana could take comfort in that. She nodded and began examining the room, searching for anything that could have done this. Kepler moved, eyes like ice as he brought Daniel into his arms with a gentleness that belied his hard expression. He examined him, jaw set and hands uncharacteristically gentle. Jacobi didn’t wake. His short hair drifted around his head, his limbs floating lifelessly, his eyes closed and face slack. Even Minkowski looked concerned as she and Hilbert glanced suspiciously around.

“Hilbert, prep the medbay.” Kepler grit out, eyes never leaving Daniel’s face, “ _Now_.”


	6. Gemini

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit gets Fun

Hilbert chased everyone from his lab, even Kepler, who glared and made many colorful threats before finally leaving with a curt order to Hera to watch Hilbert closely. No doubt he would be running them all ragged the next few days trying to learn what had attacked Jacobi. With a sigh, Hilbert got to work examining his patient. As far as he could tell, nothing was wrong. Jacobi was in perfect health, aside from a few old injuries that couldn’t have been responsible for this incident. X-rays revealed nothing, as did every other test he could think of. As much as he hated to admit it, after three hours of nonstop examination, he was baffled. He couldn’t discern any cause for Jacobi’s current state.

“Kepler is going to kill me.” he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. But with nothing else to do and no more avenues left to explore, all he could do was try to get some work done as he waited for the man to wake on his own. Hopefully Jacobi himself would be able to shed some light on the subject. Sighing, he lost himself in his work.

Jacobi woke up a few hours later, much to Hilbert’s hidden relief. He’d begun to worry the man wouldn’t wake at all, and _that_ wouldn’t have boded well for Hilbert’s wellbeing. Jacobi blinked, looking around for a moment to ascertain where he was. He seemed to stiffen when he realized he was in Hilbert’s medbay, a brief flash of fear crossing his face before it settled into an expression of polite confusion.

“Doc?” he called apprehensively. Hilbert put his work away, giving the man a critical once-over.

“You’re finally awake.” he said without inflection, “How do you feel?”

“Like I’d really like to not be strapped to your operating table right now.” he said with a sheepish grin, “Could you, uh...?”

“Then perhaps you should tell me what happened so I can decide if I need to keep you for observation.” Hilbert replied neutrally.

“I’m fine.” Jacobi rolled his eyes, “Really. I don’t even remember what happened. I probably just got sick.”

“Colonel Kepler will not accept that explanation.” he said firmly, “Especially from me. I refuse to get in trouble just because you are feeling secretive today.”

“Aw, is that any way to treat an old friend?” Jacobi pouted, causing Hilbert to raise an eyebrow.

“We are not friends.” he said, though he reluctantly drifted over to undo the straps, “I need you to tell me what happened to you. If there is a threat on this station-“

“Besides Kepler?” Jacobi laughed unexpectedly, making Hilbert draw back slightly. Something about that laugh tugged at Hilbert’s mind. It wasn’t the man’s usual laugh. It wasn’t a laugh the doctor had ever heard from the man before. It was... familiar somehow. That combined with his odd words set Hilbert on edge.

“I won’t comment on that...” he replied cautiously, “But you are acting odd. As the station’s medical officer, I insist you-“

“You insist? Ooh, I’m so scared. Or what?” Jacobi said idly, a wide grin spreading across his face, “You’ll infect me with decima? Stab me in the chest with a scalpel? Let me bleed out on your operating table?” It felt like ice water had been poured over Hilbert’s head. He stared with wide eyes, hands beginning to shake slightly.

“Wh... How did you-?”

“Relax, Doctor Evil.” Jacobi winked, eyes shining with an unearthly gleam, “You’re safe from me. For now. This show’s just getting started. Just sit pretty and maybe you’ll get to be the bull in this little rodeo.” Hilbert’s heart began to pound. This was... something was off. Something was very, very off.

“Are you feeling alright, Mister Jacobi?” he asked as evenly as he could, “Perhaps I should keep you under observation for now, in case-“ Jacobi just laughed, bright and free and so familiar it made Hilbert’s skin crawl.

“Oh believe me, doc, I’m not sticking around in this death trap of a lab any longer than I need to.” he grinned, eyes sharpening just for a second, “I should probably get back to Stavro Blofeld and his lady lackey. Am I free to go?” Hilbert could only nod, searching Jacobi’s face for... even he wasn’t sure. Jacobi grinned and gave a chipper ‘thanks’ before leaving Hilbert alone with his thoughts. Once he was gone, Hilbert let out a shaky breath, trying to calm his racing heart. It couldn’t be. He was just imagining things. It was just the old guilt and failure gnawing at his conscience. His suspicions were completely baseless, a product of paranoia and the tension on the station. Still...

“Um...” Hera’s voice startled him from his thoughts, “That was... Did that seem...?”

“I’m not making any hypotheses.” he said curtly, mind racing, “Yet.”


	7. The Stranger

“Get. Out.” Daniel growled, pale and shaking and more furious than he’d been in his life. The star’s blue light shone through his room’s window, bathing his skin in a sickly glow that only added to his pallor.

“Nah.” the stranger in the mirror grinned that obnoxious, bloodstained smile, “I kinda need you.”

“Well tough shit for you, not happening!” Daniel snarled, “Go away! Get out!”

“You can’t make me.” the stranger had the gall to stick his tongue out, “And I’m not leaving. You’re mine until I’m done with you.”

“I’m _no_ _one’s_! You can’t just use me as a puppet for whatever the hell you-!”

“Why not?” the stranger cut him off, “That’s what you and Goddard does best, isn’t it? Not so fun when the shoe is on the other foot, is it?”

“It really isn’t.” he glowered, “So why don’t you take your demonic ass and just kindly fu-“

“I don’t plan to stick around forever.” the stranger shrugged, “Just until I know my crew is safe.”

“When the Colonel finds out what’s going on, he’ll kill your entire crew.” Daniel threatened, but the stranger only laughed.

“What’s he gonna do? Exorcise me?” he grinned, “Something tells me that if your life is on the line, he may surprise you.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” he asked darkly. The stranger’s red grin turned cold.

“It means that my crew is safe as long as I have you.” he said softly, “You’re a bargaining chip, Mister Jacobi. One I’m not letting go of.” Daniel felt a pang of fear in his chest. This was an enemy he couldn’t fight. Even resisting the possession to talk to him was making him lightheaded. Still, he remained defiant.

“Why you ugly little-!”

“Mister Jacobi?” the voice came from the hallway. Kepler. _Warren_. Daniel could have cried with relief. Kepler would know what to do, Kepler could protect him. Stop this mad ghost.

“I’m-“

A switched flipped inside him.

“-fine!” he called cheerfully, turning back to the empty mirror to fix his hair and swat the beads of cold sweat away. Ugh, had he been that pale a second ago? “Just feeling kinda sick today. Nothing to worry about.”

“Are you sure?” Oh Kepler, always so suspicious. It was almost charming. Looking into the mirror, Daniel frowned slightly. He wished his hair was poofier. Maybe he could look into that when everybody got back to Earth. And everyone _would_ get back to Earth. It was very important to him that they get everyone home, regardless of what Kepler said about contingencies and necessity and blah blah blah.

“I’m sure.” he laughed despite himself, “I’m actually gonna go check out the paneling in the crew quarters if that’s okay. Not sure I trust it to not let out a live wire because I was hearing some pretty suspicious noises the other day.”

“If you’re sure...” Kepler reluctantly gave in, “Just tell me immediately if you feel your work would be impaired by this illness. That’s an order.”

“Gotcha.” he sang, “Later, Colonel.” He listened for the sound of the Colonel leaving before letting out a sigh. He has one little episode in his room, and suddenly everyone is constantly checking up on him. How annoying.

—-

It was easy enough to get to the crew quarters of that station, and even easier to choose which room to examine first. He stopped in front of a door with the initials ‘D. Eiffel’ on the little door label. Probably the dead communications officer. Something about the room drew him in, called to him. When he slid the door open, he instantly forgot why he had come. A tide of feelings threatened to overwhelm him, causing him to gasp and clutch at his head. But just as quickly as they started, everything stopped. And it was just an empty room. But now he had a mission. He dug around for a little bit until he found what he was looking for, hidden in the back of the messy closet.

“Gotcha!” he crowed victoriously as he pulled out the hidden pack of cigarettes, “Found you, you succulent little death sticks!” The cigarettes, of course, didn’t reply. But something in Daniel’s spirit calmed at holding them.

Things would be alright. Already they were looking up. All he had to do was protect the crew. Nothing else mattered.

“There.” he smiled contentedly as he tucked the cigarettes into his pocket, “Right where you belong.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is Kepler so hard to write?


	8. Pretty Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I keep taking so long on these chapters

The lights on the station kept flickering, and Alana insisted that she could fix it. Because she could. It was a menial task beneath Hera, in her opinion. It didn’t matter to her that she’d have to devote an hour or two to being alone in a room where the lights kept flickering on and off like a bad horror movie. She liked the alone time.

She worked in silence, utterly devoted to her task. The lights kept flickering, but it didn’t inconvenience her. When they flickered, they left the room solely illuminated by the dim light of the star the window was currently pointed away from. It was eerie, but not unpleasantly so. So when she glanced around during one of those times and saw that there was someone floating in the doorway, she froze instinctively, but the lights chose that second to come back on, revealing the figure to simply be Daniel. Alana relaxed immediately, punching his shoulder when he drifted close enough.

“Jerk.” she grumbled.

“What?” he asked, affronted.

“You scared the shit out of me.” she complained, “Don’t lurk in doorways all creepy like that.”

“My deepest apologies.” he said dryly, “So sorry for entering a room without loudly announcing my name.”

“Jerk.” she chuckled again, “What are you doing down here?”

“Just wandering, mostly.” he said, “Avoiding Kepler.”

“What for?” she snickered, “Is he still pissed about you venting his scotch into space?”

“You’d think I’d done something wrong.” he laughed, “Alcohol kills, dear Colonel, and the death you deserve isn’t alcohol-related. Well, an alcohol-related death might be satisfying. To anyone who hates him, anyway.” Alana gave him an odd look at that, but then again his humor had always been strange.

“And what kind of death does he deserve?” she asked curiously.

“Minkowski should shoot us all, Hilbert included.” he replied without hesitation, “And Lovelace should have the right to slit Cutter’s throat personally.” She blinked at him, honestly taken aback.

“Are you feeling okay?” she asked worriedly, thinking of the incident in his quarters recently and his odd behavior since. If he was getting sick, he needed to be in medical.

“I feel fine.” he said easily, “Why? Do I look sick? It’s the hair, isn’t it? And here I was going for a Laurent from Twilight But With Shorter Hair look. Having these dreads in a ponytail all the time is so dumb, isn’t it? Alana, as my friend, you need to tell me when certain styles don’t work.” He was too close to her, she finally noticed, almost leaning into her space. His eyes were crinkled with laughter, but he didn’t look happy.

“Uh, Daniel?” she blinked a little nervously, “Hello? Personal space, ever heard of it?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have very pretty eyes?” he asked softly, causing her skin to crawl slightly. His voice had changed. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something was different and she didn’t like it. She moved away from him slightly.

“Um... y-yeah?” she shifted uncomfortably. What had gotten _into_ him? He’d been acting strange and distant lately, ignoring her and looking at Kepler like he wanted to wrap his fingers around his throat. She’d just figured they’d had a fight, but...

“It makes me want to... pluck them out.” he said conversationally, “Keep them in my pocket. Maybe give them to Kepler as a gift, wouldn’t that be nice? It would serve you right for messing around with Hera like that, wouldn’t it? You do feel guilty about that, don’t you, Maxwell? Even just a little?”

“Daniel, what...?” she stared at him with wide eyes, feeling unsafe in his presence for the first time since they’d met. He just smiled at her, as if nothing was wrong, and for a moment she swore his eyes were backlit with malice. The lights flickered again, and just for a moment... Alana couldn’t explain it. It was like someone else was standing there in Jacobi’s place. An unfamiliar man, gaunt and pale with soft brown hair and a wide grin, eyes shining with an almost vindictive mischief and teeth stained red. Alana gasped and instinctively pushed away from him, eyes wide and heart pounding. Something was wrong. Something was _wrong_.

Then the lights stopped flickering, and Daniel was Daniel again, looking at her with a raised eyebrow, not a stranger in sight. Except for his eyes. That was it. That’s what had been so different about him. His eyes. There was something wrong with them. They were... cold. Distant. No love or amusement or friendliness to be found.

Whoever was standing in front of her, it wasn’t Daniel Jacobi. Something had happened to her best friend.

“Alana?” the imposter asked, looking unimpressed, “You good?”

“Um, yeah.” she nodded, mouth dry, “Just remembering something. I should actually go deal with it, it’s super important.”

“Sure thing.” he grinned, “See you later.”

“Yup, see you.” and she left the room as fast as she could, mind whirling. She had to talk to Kepler. But what could she say beyond ‘something’s wrong with Daniel’? He wouldn’t accept just that, she had to at least form a theory. Unless she was just losing it? But no, others had noticed Daniel’s odd behavior too, even Kepler had commented on it. But no matter the reason, the important thing was that he was in trouble and she had to help him.

Daniel laughed softly to himself as she left, as if sharing a private joke. It sent chills down Alana’s spine.


	9. Dreamscape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation between ‘friends’

“You deserve better.” Doug said idly, “I mean that, you know.” Jacobi growled at him, eyes like fire. He was asleep, but the perks of being dead let Doug talk to him in his dreams. It was super damned nifty, in his humble opinion, but Jacobi didn’t seem to share his excitement.

“Fuck you.” the man snarled, staying as far away from him as possible in the cloudy little dreamscape his mind had made, “Fuck you, you fucking spook!”

“I prefer ‘funky little spook’ or ‘Spooky Fresh’, but that works too.” Doug laughed. It was amazing how free he felt when he wasn’t fearing for his life, how much more relaxed he was in death, “But I’m serious. Why the hell are you sticking around Kepler of all people? I mean, there has to be other Colonels. Better Colonels.”

“Shut up!” Jacobi snapped, “Keep his name out of your creepy mouth!”

“Testy.” Doug held up his hands in an _easy_ _now_ gesture, “I didn’t mean to offend. Just curious, is all.”

“Well, you can take your curiosity and shove it up your ass.” he scowled, “My life is none of your damned business.”

“I disagree.” Doug shrugged, “I’m using you as my vessel. So your life matters a lot to me, actually.”

“Fuck you.” Jacobi scowled, “Go away, just leave me alone.”

“Not until my crew is safe and sound on Earth.” Doug replied.

“That will never happen.” Jacobi replied with dark certainty. Doug wasn’t fazed.

“Then you’ll never be free of me.” he replied with equal certainty. Jacobi fell silent at that, glaring daggers. Doug didn’t mind. Jacobi couldn’t hurt him anymore. No one could, “I’m serious, though. I wish you’d wise up and leave Kepler’s ass. Grab Maxwell and run, go somewhere sunny.”

“Why do you even care?” Jacobi crossed his arms with a huff, “What makes you think I’d be anything without Kepler?”

“You’re talented, skilled, clever, brilliant, beautiful.” Doug listed off, “You could be so much more than a lap dog to a self-obsessed ass like him.”

“Flattery isn’t gonna change my mind.” he scowled, but Doug could see the smallest spark of interest in his eyes, “But you’re free to continue.” Doug laughed in response, easy and light.

“See? You’re fun!” he said, “If we met on Earth, I’d have bought you a drink. Unlike the Debbie Downers on this station, sans Hera, you make me laugh.”

“Are you hitting on me?” Jacobi asked flatly, and Doug grinned.

“Well I’m already _inside_ you.” he winked. Jacobi scowled, but Doug could see the minute twitching of his lips that said he was trying not to show amusement.

“That was horrible and uncalled for, and in extremely poor taste.” he said, “In another life, we probably would have been good friends.”

“We could still be friends now.” Doug offered, earning a snort from Jacobi.

“You’re dead. And you’re possessing me and using me to threaten my friends. We’ll never be friends.”

“Would Maxwell die for you?” Doug asked suddenly, and Jacobi scowled, shoulders tensing.

“She would.” he said with absolutely certainty, “But if you lay a _finger_ on her-“

“Would Kepler?” the question seemed to take Jacobi aback slightly. When he answered, it was with a slight wariness.

“Why would he?” he said hesitantly, “He’s more experienced and more important. Goddard needs him. We’re expendable, he’s not.”

“Oh, Jacobi.” Doug sighed, “That’s really sad.”

“Is not.” he glared, clearly offended.

“You’re brilliant.” Doug said softly, “And not expendable, no matter what anyone says. You’re amazing. I would have liked to be like you.”

“No you wouldn’t.” Jacobi said immediately, “I’m no role model.”

“No one on this station is.” Doug chuckled, “But you got farther in life than I ever did. And you’ve got a friend who would die for you, a nice paying job, good looks, cutting humor, a purpose in life. What’s not to like?”

“Stop it.” Jacobi said quietly, eyes tightening.

“What?”

“Stop _praising_ me.” Jacobi scowled, “You don’t actually think those things, you just want me to let my guard down!”

“To do what?” Doug asked calmly, “I’m already possessing you. Not much more I can do.” Jacobi didn’t seem to have an answer for that. He fell sullenly silent, glaring off to the left rather than look at him. Doug hid a smile. Poor, tired, deprived Jacobi. If only...

“Jacobi?” he asked.

“What?” Jacobi grit out.

“I really wish you didn’t love Kepler.” And he did. He really and truly did. Jacobi could he so much more if he wasn’t Kepler’s lackey. If he wasn’t so busy chasing his approval. Jacobi slumped, like he wasn’t surprised to hear it.

“Me too.” he murmured, and he suddenly looked so tired. It made Doug pity the man before him, so full of potential but held down by trauma and issues and a destructive love that held approval and attention at the end of a stick, making him dance for it.

“You deserve better.” he said again, firm and steady. Jacobi seemed to draw in on himself slightly, defiance draining from him slowly but surely.

“You don’t know that.” he said tiredly, “You’re a dead asshole with all the freedom you want and friends who miss you so much it makes even me feel bad.”

“Maxwell will miss you when you’re gone.” Doug assured him, “But until then, I’ll keep you safe.”

“You’ll keep me safe?” Jacobi raised a skeptical eyebrow, “And why, pray tell, is that?”

“Because I like you.” Doug smiled, “At least, I like you more than the others.”

“Bullshit.”

“You haven’t fucked around with Hera like Maxwell has.” Doug explained, “And while you could stand to respect my friends more, you haven’t outright threatened them like Kepler has. Not to mention you’re easily the hottest out of all of them.” Jacobi finally flushed, snorting a little in disbelief, and Doug mentally cursed at Kepler for being so stingy with praise that Jacobi would take it from a dead man.

“You possess me, which was horrifying by the way, you make me threaten Maxwell, you make me question what’s real and what isn’t, and now you’re being nice to me.” Jacobi said, his voice flat but his eyes brimming with a new vulnerability, “Why? What else could you possibly gain from this?”

“Maybe I want to be your friend.” Eiffel said simply, “I don’t want this to be a horrific experience for you. We both need someone. I can be there for you.”

“I don’t need friends.” he scowled, but his voice was lacking it’s previous heat, “Especially dead friends. I have enough of those.” The last part seemed more of an afterthought, and Doug sighed and moved forward, mind made up. Before Jacobi could jerk away, Doug was hugging him, pressing him securely to his cold body. Jacobi froze, eyes going wide.

“What are you doing?” he whispered, stiff and tense.

“I can always tell when someone needs a hug.” Doug replied easily, “And my god do you need one. When was your last hug?”

“This is insane.” Jacobi whispered, beginning to tremble slightly, “I’m insane.”

“Not insane.” he grinned, “Just possessed. But since you can’t do anything about that, might as well enjoy a hug from Eiffel the friendly ghost.” There was a moment of hesitation, and then Jacobi’s arms slowly snaked around Doug’s shoulders, hesitant and slow, like he couldn’t believe what he was doing. Doug smiled a wide, triumphant smile, the expression unseen over Jacobi’s shoulder. Poor Jacobi. So lost, so needy, so desperate for love. Doug could protect him. Doug could give him all the validation and praise he wanted. Daniel Jacobi would be his forever, and it would drive Kepler mad.

“I’m insane.” Jacobi whispered again, eyes squeezing shut even as he hugged Doug tighter.

“Not insane.” Doug hummed, watching his blood seep into Jacobi’s skin, “Just mine.”


	10. Plural

Jacobi was acting weird, and Kepler didn’t like it one bit. In an attempt to discern what was the matter, he’d called Jacobi to his quarters for a private chat. Jacobi... hadn’t sounded enthusiastic about it. Not that his preference ls mattered, in this case. If something was wrong with Jacobi, he would deal with it without mercy. If it was just Jacobi playing a long prank, he would make his life an absolute hell. If someone had said or done something to him to make him act this way, Kepler would throw them out the airlock. In pieces.

Kepler sipped his scotch as he waited, gazing out into the black and trying to predict how Jacobi would act when they were alone. He’d not been friendly to Kepler these past few days, but perhaps it was a show for the others? Perhaps he was planning something? A knock at the door broke him from his thoughts and signaled Jacobi’s arrival. Kepler corked his scotch and set it aside to welcome him as he opened the door.

“You asked to see me?” Jacobi looked annoyed at the summons. At last, a brief glimpse of familiarity on this mad station.

“Yes, come in.” Kepler nodded, “Have a seat.”

“In zero-g?” Jacobi raised an eyebrow.

“I was trying to make a joke, Mr. Jacobi. Most people would laugh.” his tone was light, hoping to ease Jacobi’s guard down a little. Jacobi simply sighed, as if he had somewhere more important to be. It instantly put Kepler in a foul mood.

“Look, say what you need to say, alright?” Jacobi said without a hint of warmth, “I’m teaching Hera about arcade games in like ten minutes.”

“I’m simply concerned about your behavior these past few days.” he said calmly, as if the casual way he talked about _hanging_ _out_ with the _Hephaestus_ crew didn’t make his skin crawl, “You’ve been acting strangely, to the point of frightening Maxwell and the others. If something is the matter, especially if it affects your performance, I need to know about it.”

“Seriously? That’s what this is about?” his annoyed expression got somehow deeper, “I get Maxwell saying I’m acting weird, but you?”

“It’s just a precaution. Even I’ve noticed a change.” he added in a softer voice, “You’ve been avoiding me, since that attack in your quarters. Did something else happen? Is someone threatening you?”

“We’re fine.” Jacobi rolled his eyes, seemingly untouched by Kepler’s rare expression of concern, “Seriously, quit worrying so much.”

“And who is we?” Kepler asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Hm?”

“You said ‘we’re fine’ just now.” he said, growing irritated. He laid an oh-so gentle hand on his shoulder, a soft warning, “Jacobi, if you think you’re being funny-“

“Don’t touch me.” Jacobi said softly, cutting him off. Kepler blinked, tilting his head curiously.

“Oh? Is that an order, Mister Jacobi?” his tone was almost playful. Almost. But Jacobi gave him a cold look, which took Kepler aback slightly.

“I don’t like it when you touch me.” he said quietly, his voice full of an unfamiliar menace, “So don’t do it.”

“Watch your tone, Jacobi.” Kepler growled, latching onto anger to smother the spark of worry in his chest, “I’m not above punishing you to make a point.”

“That’s all you know, isn’t it?” Jacobi asked softly, “Pain, punishment, conditioning, Pavlov with his pretty little dogs.”

“Jacobi, what has gotten into you?” Kepler asked with an edge of frustration, but Jacobi laughed unexpectedly in response, like Kepler had made a joke.

“Not so much a what.” he laughed, “Not much anything you need to worry about. We’ve reached an understanding.”

“You’re not making any sense.” Kepler growled, “Jacobi, if this station has gotten to your head somehow-“

“We belong here.” his eyes were bright, and the lights flickered ominously, “All of us. No one wants to be here but we all deserve this place.” Kepler’s chest clenched slightly at his behavior, wondering if he should consult Doctor Hilbert about this, despite his disdain for the man. But then he remembered how skittish and nervous the doctor had been around Jacobi since the night of the unknown attack, and how Jacobi’s apathy towards the doctor had turned to vitriol seemingly overnight. It was odd. Everything about this situation was just odd.

“If you’re going to talk in riddles, I’m putting you on latrine duty.” he threatened, but Jacobi didn’t whine or complain like he normally would have. Instead, he simply smiled.

“You don’t scare us.” he said calmly, and then he was leaving, floating out the doorway before Kepler could say another word. The Colonel was left alone, a cold feeling in his stomach and his thoughts whirling in his mind as he vainly tried to fit together the pieces of an incomplete puzzle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written at 3 am so apologies for any mediocrity


End file.
